


The Construction of a truth

by Lieju



Category: Spirou et Fantasio
Genre: M/M, mindfuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 16:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8020333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieju/pseuds/Lieju
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place during album 55. Spirou and Zantafio are left alone, Spirou is inceasingly uncertain about what's real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Construction of a truth

 

 

"Enjoying your meal?"

 

Spirou didn't look up from the fire where the rabbit-like animal was being cooked. Where was Fantasio? Or Spip, he'd settle for Spip.

 

Spirou bit down on the gamey meat, ignoring it being still too raw just to avoid answering. His thoughts circled back to Fantasio. Anything to avoid thinking of the darkhaired man sitting in front of him. Fantasio had been acting oddly lately.

 

Just like Zantafio had said.

 

Spirou chewed the meat.

 

_No._

 

Zantafio might have noticed something, since he spoke again, the smirk evident in his voice.

 

"Not even simple 'thanks Zanta'?"

 

Spirou refused to look at him. But it didn't stop him from imagining that annoying smile. The kind of smile that made it very obvious he was reading Spirou like an open book.

 

"I'm dying."

 

Spirou almost spat out the meat, and looked up.

 

There it was again, the same smirk he knew so well. Spirou cursed his weakness for reacting so predictably.

 

Zantafio leaned back and stretched, turning his face away from the fire. "If Fantasio doesn't come back soon I'm afraid I'll die of thirst and you'll be denied my charming company."

 

"What a shame that'd be."

 

"Zorglub was an idiot."

 

Spirou stared, confused by the sudden change in topic.

 

"He never fully understood what the Zorgbeam could do. No, he did, just was so stubborn and didn't consider..."

 

Spirou's blood ran cold. Why was he bringing this up now?

 

"How much of it really happened?"

 

For once he seemed to catch Zantafio off guard. "What?"

 

Maybe he was a better actor than Spirou had thought. He had really seemed genuinely surprised, just like when Spirou had kissed him. That hadn't been their first kiss, but it had felt more significant. Their first kiss had been a quick peck landed on mostly Spirou's cheek. Spirou had felt Zantafio's body against him, the taller man warm against him back. And the cold steel of his pistol on Spirou's temple.

 

It had been the catalyst for countless sleepless nights for Spirou. He'd push a piece of cold steel against his head, close his eyes and imagine the taller man's arm around him. Firmly keeping him in place. How Zantafio would reach down to lay a kiss on his cheek. How Spirou had been agonizing over whether it had really been a kiss. In those moments in the dark lonely bedroom he'd replay those events in his mind, imagining he'd turn his head just ever so slightly. Capture the other man in a kiss.

 

And now it felt like he was back in that point of time. Uncertain. Not just of Zantafio's intentions, but everything.

 

Zantafio spoke out, after the split second that had felt like an hour for Spirou. "How much of-"

 

Spirou stared into his eyes. He had to know. His mind had been played with. But would Zantafio be so cruel-

 

Spirou quickly checked his surroundings. Good, Fantasio was still gone. "How much of the memories I have of us are real?"

 

For a second there was shock on Zantafio's face before it contorted into a grin. "How much of you _want_ it to be real?"

 

Spirou stood up. "None of it." He gritted his teeth to stop himself from yelling. He observed Zantafio's face, wondering if he saw hurt, or if he was just hoping he would be-

 

Zantafio shrugged. "Then none of it was real. Just something I thought would be a laugh. Should have also made Fanta believe he's a rabbit or something."

 

"Liar," Spirou hissed.

 

"Oh?" Zantafio stood up, and Spirou braced himself. However, he simply bent down to throw more wood into the fire. "You're a difficult one to please."

 

Spirou took a step and grasped Zantafio. Before sense could catch with him Spirou pushed their lips together.

 

The second time they had kissed had been when Spirou had tackled the bleeding sweaty man who had tried to run away after his scheme had gone south. Zantafio had fallen on his back, Spirou had pinned him to the ground. And kissed him. It had been like this. For a second Zantafio had been startled, before responding.

 

The memory felt real.

 

Spirou took a step back, pushing Zantafio away. "I hate you."

 

But that was something he hadn't been certain of in years.

 

Zantafio collapsed, falling on his knees. "I need-"

 

Spirou stood, watching him try to find his backbag. When had he become this pitiable? Spirou watched Zantafio open a bottle of clear liquid.

 

Zantafio filled the syringe with shaking hands and injected it. "It's not working."

 

An image of Zantafio laying in a shack somewhere after an overdose crossed Spirou's mind. If he died, no one would ever know. It was as if this had never happened. No more uncertainty.

 

"That's why I need the Zorgbeam," Zantafio told him through shaking lips.

 

"For your-"

 

"The Zorgbeam can be used to overwrite impulses from the brain. Such as pain."

 

Spirou thought of Zantafio dying again, and this time it felt like a real possibility.

 

And there was a sense of loss.

 

It was odd how he had never really believed Zantafio could die. Even with all they had gone through the idea had never felt real. He'd always pull through somehow.

 

"I am not going to help you to get your hands on a Zorgbeam."

 

But maybe he could get the Count to modify it to make a beam that could only be used for pain relief...

 

A bitter laugh broke the silence. "So, you're not as naive as I thought you'd be."

 

Spirou could feel himself blushing, either out of rage or shame. How had he allowed himself to be led on by Zantafio again? But he looked like shit, and even if he had said that simply to get access to the Zorgbeam again...

 

"I'm sure I can ask the Count to get you something to get you off drugs."

 

Zantafio growled. "Oh, little boy scout, huh? No thanks."

 

Spirou almost stepped towards him again, whether to punch him or kiss him, he didn't know. But he stopped. Something was wrong. This wasn't like Zantafio.

 

"Are you..?"

 

Zantafio threw his hands in the air dramatically, barely hiding the wince of pain. "The drugs help me work through the agony. I'm dying, didn't I tell you? About to leave this mortal coil. Assume room temperature, take trip through the veil. Enjoy my company while you still can."

 

"Liar."

 

"Oh, won't you run into my arms, Spirou? Tell me everything will be fine? Caress my war injuries, have your mouth on me like you used to? Kiss all my troubles away?"

 

 _If that ever really happened,_ Spirou reminded himself.

 

It hadn't been that many times, it wasn't like they had had many opportunities for it. And they couldn't have let anyone know. Fantasio didn't know.

 

So no one to confirm if it really had happened.

 

But Zantafio had seemed surprised.

 

Spirou bent down next to Zantafio. "You're not dying. But we need to get you treated, if just so you can rot in prison."

 

"To answer your question, Spirou, no."

 

"What?"

 

"It never happened. None of it. It was all lies I made up for my own amusement, false nasty memories inserted into your goody two shoes brain."

 

Spirou tried to clear his mind. He had all these memories of himself and Zantafio. But he had forgotten. Zantafio had made him forget about all that when he had wiped his mind clear of any memories related to the Marsupilami. Unless... he had inserted those memories into him so they'd surface later like this when he tried to remember what was real?

 

Spirou tried to focus on the individual memories, when they had agreed to meet up and 'talk', the details of the hotel bedrooms they had shared-

 

Spirou had no time to react when a gun was pulled out.

 

"You really are too naive, Spirou."

 

That was the last thing Spirou heard before everything went dark.

 

 

...

 

 

Spirou opened his eyes. There was an odd buzzing feeling in his head.

 

"Spirou?" called a familiar voice.

 

"Fanta?"

 

Spirou's gaze found the second man sitting on the canoe. "Zantafio!"

 

He tried to sit up, but found himself restrained. He slumped back down.

 

"Try to relax, Spirou," Fantasio told him.

 

Spirou shook his head, trying to get rid of the buzzing feeling in his brain. It felt familiar, electric.

 

"Spirou."

 

Spirou had to fight himself to avoid trying to struggle back up. He hated Zantafio. He had never in his life felt such burning, clear, anger towards a person.

 

He wasn't even certain why, his memories seemed a bit fuzzy.

 

"The Marsupilami has certainly forgotten about you," Zantafio said.

 

"All of your adventures together, it doesn't remember. And if no one remembers the events, they might as well not have happened."

 

"Liar," Spirou muttered, trying to remember what had happened just before he had fainted. He screamed with a splitting headache.

 

"Don't try to do anything," Fantasio said. "Zantafio has a gun, and you're in no position to fight."

 

 

 


End file.
